Chapter Text
The kid was never one to wear their heart on their sleeve, Jeralt knew their heart sat firmly behind their ribs, calm and unbeating.
Jeralt often heard praises from colleagues or passers-byers about how self-sufficient Byleth was, how the child was mature for their age.
But Jeralt never saw it as a good thing, their maturity unnerving while they were in such a small body.
Never did Jeralt have to fear that they would lash out or have a tantrum as a child. They would sit quietly in the corner of the inn they were staying, looking at people drinking, talking and laughing together. They would silently watch the trees go by as their wagon was being pulled by their horses. They would swiftly and solemnly move amongst the beds with their injured comrades after a harsh battle, giving a helping hand wherever they could.
No, Jeralt never had to fear that his kid would hurt themselves or that they would handle purely on emotion.
Jeralt feared the look in his child's face as they stared at him, not knowing he could see the look of dispair in their eyes. He remembered how his heart stopped when he first saw that look, he knew that it was the same he had worn when Sitri died.
Grief.
His own child was grieving him.
It was the only emotion the child had ever clearly shown and only when they looked at him. It was surreal to see such a pained expression appear on the child's face when normally they would not even twitch an eye at anyone else. Jeralt had wrecked his brain for months about why they would look at him like that with those big, deep blue eyes.
Months turned into years and Jeralt still did not know, the look had only gotten worse.
And then they were at Garreg Mach and that look of grief had turned into guilt which was so much worse to Jeralt.
He never hated the look Byleth shot him, he dreaded it everyday, and yet dread did turn into hatred, because it was not just him that received that look anymore.
When her students weren't looking and nobody was watching them, their face would crack and their jaw would clench and their eyes would almost tear up.
It broke his heart bit by bit and he again asked himself why he and the students deserved such looks.
He had asked the houseleader of the Golden Deer house once if he knew about the looks Byleth threw him. The boy, hardly even a man, hesitated before answering, he knew and he too hated it.
They had speculated for only a moment before Byleth called on the boy to join his the rest of his class and start training.
Jeralt suspected that maybe Byleth felt such fear of losing her students in battle that it was causing her to breakdown but Jeralt knew that to be false when he had thought back to the first time Byleth had met Rhea.
For only a fraction of a moment when Rhea came into view, Seteth and Flayn by her side, did Byleth's eyes flare up with an anger and sadness Jeralt could not comprehend. It was all encompassing, it made him feel like his very being was being compressed by their emotions pouring out, so much so, that Jeralt almost stumbled after Byleth had regained controle of themselves, the pressure released.
He had never feared his child but in that moment he was very close to it.
Jeralt did not know why.
Yet maybe now he finally understood.
The pain in his child's eyes were familiar by now, the guilt, the grief gracing their face were as much a part of them as their deep blue eyes and dark hair.
Now, finally, he understood, as his child cried for the first time, and the last.
As they gathered their father in their arms for the first and the last time. Not desperately trying to stop the bleeding, not telling him help was on the way or that he was going to be alright.
They had known.
And Jeralt could not bring himself to fear his own death when his child had seen it creeping closer and closer to him from the very beginning.
The guilt on his child's face was unbearable, the tears he had sometimes wished too see meant nothing to him now.
He only wanted to relieve them of it, finally relieve them both of it. "To think that the first time I saw you cry... your tears would be for me. It's sad, and yet...I'm happy for it. Thank you...kid."
'I am happy for it.' were the thoughts that echoes through his mind as he slipped away, as he knew this was the last he would see of his child.
They were crying but there was no guilt, just sadness and grief.
'Right when you stop grieving for me, I die.' Was the last thought he unknowingly shared with his child as his eyes closed.
Jeralt felt like he was floating into a restless sleep, like he could wake at any moment. He struggled against the sleep trying to wake but de dark kept him prisoner for a long time.
It felt like Jeralt had just been sleeping when he woke up. Looking around he realized that he was someplace unfamiliar and he wondered if he really had just died. He was in a dark place without walls, he was standing on a stone floor, big stone steps emerged from it and lead up to a throne made of thick stone.
A child with green hair, white and red ribbons braided through it, and pale green eyes sat on the stone throne looking down on him.
He wanted to ask the small girl who she was but he knew with just a look.
She felt familiar.
The child got down from her throne and walked down to stand before him, a hand outstretched.
There was a look of pity on the girl's face, as if she knew what had happened to him.
He wanted to ask what she knew but she spoke before he could.
"You have been brave Jeralt Eisner, I am sorry it had to end like this again." Something was off about that sentence but Jeralt did not know what exactly it was.
"Take my hand and you can finally rest." He looked at the child's hand, it looked no different than that of a mortal hand. Yet the strength of her grip reminded him of whom he had before him
Sothis.
It was all clear to him now.
His child, Byleth and the goddess, they were.....
Too much, the child had suffered too much.
"And yet it is never enough." Sothis spoke, her voice was saddened, her gaze grieving.
Jeralt looked at her with pity when he felt doors open behind him and warm light showered his back.
He turned, the after life looked bright, he didn't think that something like that was awaiting him, but then again, he could not know what would be awaiting him at the end.
Jeralt had never feared his own end. It would come for every living creature eventually, no matter how holy they were. No matter how long he had lived, he knew that he would go some day. He did not regret a thing, nothing he had ever done was worthy of regret. Not even the looks of guilt on his child's face, not the times he struggled to take care of them, not the times when he wished he shouldn't have surrounded himself with mercenaries. He would leave without fear.
He felt the light warming his soul, yet the light beyond the door felt lonely as well, maybe that was what death was, loneliness.
You leave people behind and you yourself end up alone somewhere where none can reach you.
Jeralt looked back at the child as Sothis let go of his hand. She seemed sad, like she was missing someone she loved.
"Be at rest now, Jeralt Eisner, I will look over them for one final time."
Jeralt smiled at the goddess' words, he was grateful that the kid would still have someone looking over them, even if he was gone.
"Thank you."
For the first time Jeralt felt like he could go, like he could at last rest, like a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. His child would be okay, he was certain of that, they would be okay as long as they kept moving forward, towards a brighter future, one where they would choose to live and love the people around them and not grieve the cruel fates that would eventually come.